


Flesh of My Flesh

by HunterByDayWhovianByNight



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Female Solo, Masturbation, Multi, Self-Discovery, Sonic Screwdriver, Sonic Screwdriver Used as a Sex Toy (Doctor Who)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-10-31 11:47:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17848856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunterByDayWhovianByNight/pseuds/HunterByDayWhovianByNight
Summary: “In dewy damps my limbs were chilled; /My blood with gentle horrors thrilled: /My feeble pulse forgot to play; /I fainted, sunk, and died away.”—SapphoThirteen didn’t know she could feel like a supernova at her own hand.





	Flesh of My Flesh

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been way too long since I updated. This particular story is LONG overdue... I think I started it in October. Despite all that, I’ve finished the story and I hope everyone enjoys it! Title is from “And God Created Woman" by Prince. Working title: My Sin.
> 
> ~Hunter

The Doctor glanced around the control room of her TARDIS and noted that there was nobody around. They were likely all in their rooms or off exploring the TARDIS themselves, which piqued something in her mind. She had been longing to explore this new body, see how it worked. She was no stranger to the bodies of human women, or women in general, as she’d had them before— Rose and Clara and River came to mind— but this body was solely _hers._ She wasn’t leasing it for a few hours from someone else, she was solely in belonging to herself.

(Once, when she had a moment to herself, she skimmed her hands over the tops of her breasts; it was a curious feeling, having so much flesh there on her chest.)

The Doctor skimmed lazy fingers over the control panel of the TARDIS, mindful of the buttons and levers as she left the control room. She felt the TARDIS’ energy surging through her body and exhaled deeply, relishing in the way this new body experienced. Before, her person had just felt things skin-deep; maybe it was because she was a woman now, but most everything she touched or heard or experienced went past her skin, past her organs, and into the deepest part of her when she focused.

The Doctor’s fingers dropped off the panel and she tiptoed out and up to her room. She pressed a hand to her pocket— good, sonic still there; she hated being without it and had gotten into the habit of always checking that it was on her person— and continued down the hallway. She pressed open the door to her room, well, the room she used if she just wanted to be alone, and entered gingerly, trying not to creak on the floorboards. She closed it behind her and pulled out her sonic, pressing on it to lock the door shut. It was when the device whirred in her hand she realized what else could happen.

Never before had she done this. Well, she’d done _this,_ what she was really about to do before, but not with the sonic. No partner had ever wondered or asked for it while they were together, and there wasn’t _really_ a use for it when her body was male. Her fingers turned the device over in her hand, analyzing its possibilities. _Swiss Army sonic,_ her mind supplied, and she let out a brief, amused chuckle.

With practiced, fluid movement, the Doctor shrugged off her coat, letting it slip down her arms and to the floor. There was something awakening in her abdomen; she recognized it as a twin, albeit a fraternal and not identical one, to the need and desire she felt when she was a man. It felt different in her new body, more centralized and everywhere at the same time. It was deeper in her core and more lingering between her legs, so different now and so much more intense. Her fingers itched to touch herself and the burning below her hips grew. The Doctor squeezed her thighs together for a brief moment and gasped at the friction.

The wait became all too unbearable. The Doctor slid off her braces and rucked up her top from her trousers as she walked to her bed, laid over with blankets and pillows and coverlets from all different times and places and peoples. She smiled to herself and dove into the bed, savoring the plushy warmth and softness. She smelled the familiar, musky scent of dried roses and herbs in the covers, no doubt a result of the little sachets Emily Brontë once gave her past self as a gift for helping her edit _Wuthering Heights_ hiding in a comforter somewhere. The Doctor sprawled out on the bed, smothering her nose in the blankets and inhaling, chasing the scent of Clara’s perfume. She was the last person in this bed.

The Doctor arched up, moving across the bed and trying to gain more friction. She rolled on her back, sonic still in hand, and moved her free hand up under her top. The feeling of her hand on the sensitive skin of her ribs sent a jolt of pleasure down her spine. The Doctor smiled to herself and pulled off her shoes hurriedly, peeled off her socks. She righted herself on the bed and looked at her sonic, biting her lower lip in anticipation. The warm curl tightened in her abdomen, and _stars,_ there was that distinctly female arousal that she was finding all the more bewitching and intoxicating than it was in her other bodies. She pressed the button, watched the crystal rotate at the tip and the whole sonic thrum in her hand, all the while intrigued and dazed. She shifted, giving herself more friction as she anticipated what exactly she would do next.

Carefully, the Doctor laid her sonic on a pillow near her head, not wanting it to get lost as she stripped the rest of her clothes off. She looked up at the ceiling, not wanting to betray her hand as it thumbed open the button to her trousers, and slowly unzipped them. She tried to prolong it as much as possible; she knew from past partners that building up to the main event made it all the sweeter. When she touched the soft skin of her abdomen, a chill went across her chest and hardened her nipples— that was a new sensation for her; she hadn’t realized how lovely it felt— and she quickly rucked off her top and unclipped the band to her bra. The Doctor inhaled and then exhaled smoothly as she pushed her trousers and knickers down in one go, kicking them off when she could. The cool, not-too-warm air of the room enveloped her bare skin and the softness of the comforter below her (a gift from the Queen of Sheba) soothed her racing, aroused mind.

The Doctor held up her hands, examining the long, white fingers and trim nails. Much different than her former self, but quite similar to her youngest self, who wore the bow ties and had an unruly brown mop of hair. She sat up and looked at herself reflected in the full-body mirror near the door; she still had alabaster skin, full of youth and muscle. Her last body had looked significantly older. Despite her need to linger her fingers down further, the Doctor found herself pushing her blonde hair back and tracing her jaw, then moving her hand down her neck and across her collarbones. She cupped a breast and sucked in a quick breath, barely noticing how well it fit in the palm of her hand. She squeezed it, sending a rush of arousal straight to her groin. She’d note that trick for later.

Goosebumps began to follow the path of her fingers as she traced them across her chest, over her breasts and stomach (she even jilted when she touched a particular sensitive patch of skin on her side), on the tops of her thighs. She settled back into the pillows at the head of the bed, taking one last glance at herself. _This body could help me out one day,_ the Doctor considered in her mind. She knew the minds of men, how they reacted when they saw women that were objectively desirable. If she had seen this body before, she would have been intrigued by it.

With slow, careful fingers, the Doctor clasped her hand around the gently curved handle of her sonic. She had designed it for ease of use, so that it would sit in the curve of her hand just so; it had never even crossed her mind that it could be used for this because of its structure. The device was not too weighty at all; its lightness was a nice touch. Slowly, dragging the crystal across down her chest, starting at her collarbones and going down between her breasts and her stomach, the Doctor blissfully shut her eyes and sighed at the smooth, warm crystal on her bare skin. The lower she went, the more her body tightened up and she felt like she would completely dissolve. She squeezed her legs together yet again, not wanting to indulge herself with the sonic just yet.

The Doctor skimmed the sonic between where her thighs were pressed together, having to bend them so that she could start from a sensitive place above her knee and then bring it up to her even more receptive upper thighs. She jolted and gasped aloud when the crystal hummed against the thin, responsive part of her inner thighs and then moaned as the pleasure settled into her muscles. She felt slightly slick against the insides of her thighs and, with little hesitation, pressed her sonic against her clit. She squeezed her eyes shut even tighter than before and cried out as the little vibrations of the sonic sent zaps of pleasure through her pelvis and up her spine. The Doctor pressed her finger to the button on the top of the device and felt the little, smooth crystal move against her now-aching clit, where she needed it to be so badly.

Biting her lip, the Doctor pressed the crystal against her body even harder and curled her toes, letting her pleasure flood her body and brain. She hadn’t done this in ages— always too busy or not engaged enough. Besides, in the body before this she’d had Clara and then River. The Doctor recalled the way she’d been with Clara that first time, when she bashfully admitted she’d never been with someone so old; she even recalled how needy and desperate River had been for her touch, how she’d waited so many millennia for them to finally be happy together, even if just for one night. The Doctor smiled at the memories and panted, trying to hold back any too-loud noises just in case as she rocked her hips into her sonic, dialing the vibrations up a notch. The Doctor swore she heard herself whine in pleasure as the sensations started to turn from warming to nearly unbearable.

The Doctor opened up her legs more and melted luxuriously into the bed. The further and longer she continued to work the sonic against herself, the tighter her eyes screwed and the deeper her breaths became. The vibrations, while nothing world-shattering but still strong, had the Doctor’s hips erratically thrusting up into the sonic, into her hand. Boldly, she pressed the tip of the sonic inside of her. It slipped in easily, what with how wet she was. The crystal moved in her and the Doctor cried out as she felt her walls flutter and thighs flex in reaction to the foreign, too-much, too-good feeling. She thought she would cry it felt so good in that moment, and she pressed the sonic into her even further so that her fingers were now physically touching herself, the curls wiry against her hand.

She felt so close. It was different, so different as a woman; this pleasure came slower but felt so much more fulfilling. It was like there was lava or liquid fire being poured into her abdomen the closer she got to her climax. Something deep in her said that afterwards, she’d luxuriate in the pleasure longer. She could already taste the feel of it, could taste it every time she shivered or the sonic shifted or she moaned aloud. The Doctor pressed her back into the bed even more, curling her toes and bracing herself as she felt her orgasm rapidly approach her. Her chest heaved and both hearts beat wildly enough to knock the wind out of her. Her breathing grew heavier and her hips ground against her hand and into the sonic with more urgency than before.

And then, like a switch, the force drawing the Doctor’s body into itself was released and she moaned aloud at the sensation of finally coming and unspooling into the comforter. Her whole body shuddered and screamed with pleasure and lust for nobody in particular. She wanted it more, needed it more, despite not really knowing what _it_ meant. She withdrew the sonic from herself and turned off the vibrations but still clutched it in her hand. It felt warm and slick and sticky. The Doctor rolled onto her side and curled her legs closer into her body. Her over-sensitive clit sent little tremors of pleasure through her abdomen and thighs when her thighs pressed against it, and she jolted and gasped at the sensation. She breathed, slowly, returning to herself after being shot out across the cosmos in a thousand thousand pieces. It was not like a man’s pleasure, which was all at once in a white hot feeling. That was certainly not what she felt. It was more. She’d felt like a shooting star. A pulsing quasar. An exploding galaxy. A dying star.

Looking at the sonic still in her hand, the Doctor huffed in amusement and flicked it on again, a smirk on her lips. She didn’t want to leave this room for a long while.

**Author's Note:**

> me, in ya brain: kudos/comment on this fic  
> you: but why  
> me, in ya brain: you gotta
> 
> ~Hunter


End file.
